Mackenzie White 10-Before He Longs

by Pierce, Blake

  When the killer finally spoke again, he sounded unusually calm. If he was agitated at her bit of argument, he was hiding it well.

  “I’m going to open the hatch,” he said. “If you want to know where the girl is, you will hand me your gun, butt first.”

  “How do I know you won’t shoot me?”

  “You don’t. But I will tell you this: I have the gun on me…the same one I used yesterday. If I wanted to shoot you, I would have done it before trapping you down there.”

  He probably wants me alive for intel, she thought. He wants me alive so I can tell him exactly what we know about him.

  “Make your decision, Agent. I’m opening the hatch now.”

  She heard footfalls and then the clicking of the door beginning to slide open. The hatch was pulled open six inches or so, rays of gritty sunlight coming in and momentarily blinding her.

  That’s when her text to Ellington went through. She knew it not because she saw it, but because of the tiny sound her outgoing texts made. She always had her notifications set to low volume but in the quiet of the pit, it seemed quite loud.

  The hatch door flew open in that moment and suddenly, he was there. “Who the fuck are you texting?”

  There was a moment of hesitation as about a million emotions ran the course of the killer’s face. But then he raised his gun.

  Mackenzie had been ready for it, though. She brought her hand up and fired off a shot just as she pushed herself backward, giving the killer a harder shot. He fired off his shot about half a second after Mackenzie’s. Mackenzie was quite sure her shot had missed. As for the killer’s shot, it hit the wall about a foot away from where she sat. It sank into the old wooden boards, sending splinters flying.

  She saw him looking down at her again and raised her gun. She knew she wouldn’t be able to hit him but fired anyway. He jumped back with a yell and slid the hatch back closed. It seemed to snag a bit before it closed but then he slammed it shut with a cry of frustration.

  “Congratulations,” he screamed. “That girl that’s bleeding in a storage unit right now…you just killed her. And as for you…I hope you starve down there.”

  She heard scurrying footsteps and the sound of things falling over. She had pissed him off and she knew that had been stupid. But when he had angled his gun down at her, she hadn’t had a choice. If she hadn’t fired at him, he would have probably killed her.

  Her…and the baby she was carrying.

  The weight of this reality struck her right in the heart and she wanted to fold up and cry in the darkness. Instead, she focused on the sound of the killer’s footsteps as he walked away. He slammed the door behind him and left Mackenzie to the silence. She listened for the sound of an engine, wondering where the hell his car had been when she’d arrived. Had he parked behind the building?

  She didn’t know. And she wasn’t going to waste time wondering. She got to her feet as well as she could and waddled over to the ladder. She looked up at the hatch, pointing the flashlight at it. She traced the edges of the hatch’s frame and saw where her second shot had struck. It was a small chip on the underside of the frame, almost completely hidden by the closed hatch. She recalled the way the door had snagged when the killer had closed it.

  Maybe…

  She reached up and found the handle. She dug her fingers into it and pushed hard to the left. Sure enough, it went sliding open. But only several inches. She pushed harder and harder until her fingers and shoulders ached but it would not move any more.

  She dug her phone back out and texted Ellington again. Killer gone. Still trapped. Don’t know what he’s driving. Block off the main roads, set up a

  But the sound of an engine stopped her. It was not the sound of an engine leaving the building, which was the sound she had expected to hear. Instead, it was approaching the building.

  But the killer had not left yet. Where the hell was he?

  Probably hiding in the same place he was tucked away when you came knocking. And look how easily he snuck up on you.

  The sound of the engine came to a stop, followed by the sound of a car door closing. And then a second.

  Rising’s with him. That’s good. This whole thing might end right here…

  She almost called out a warning to them but decided not to. No sense in letting the killer know that she was aware someone else had arrived. If he was still there at all, of course. Instead, she deleted everything she had texted before and attempted to start over. But before her fingers could even start the message, she heard a thundering noise as the front door was busted open.

  “Mackenzie?”

  “Here!” She even stuck her fingers up through the hatch to move the black mat that the killer had placed back over it.

  “What the hell?” he said.

  His voice was so close and she could not remember ever wanting to see his face so badly. She heard the mat pulled to the side and then saw a sliver of natural light come in through the crack she had managed to open up. She listened to Ellington figure out the latch on the door and then push the door open.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  Hearing him so close made her realize that her ears had been ringing a bit from the close proximity of the three gunshots.

  “Yes. I’ll catch you up later. I think he’s still here somewhere. Maybe out in the woods or hiding behind—”

  She was cut off by the sound of a gunshot from outside. And then a second and a third.

  “Rising is with you, right?”

  “Yeah,” Ellington said, drawing his weapon and heading back for the door.

  “Careful,” she said. “He confirmed that there is another woman. She’s been stabbed and is bleeding out somewhere in a unit. We can’t kill him. He has to tell us where she is.”

  “Shit.” He then went to the door, Mackenzie following behind him. “Rising! Hey, Rising, we can’t kill him! He…”

  But that’s where Ellington stopped. Mackenzie stepped up beside him and peered out the door. She saw the same thing Ellington had seen.

  Rising was on the ground in front of their car.

  And he wasn’t moving.

  CHAPTER THIRTY SIX

  The thought that had enveloped Mackenzie’s entire being while she had been down in the pit seemed to have switched some internal gear within her. If I put myself at risk, I put the baby at risk…

  So rather than running out to Rising’s aid, she fell back into the garage. Ellington took off, though. She watched him go, always impressed with how agile he was. It was like watching some choreographed action movie star on a stage. He strafed his way to the car, keeping his gun level and doing his best to take in the entire scene.

  He went to Rising and instantly checked for a pulse. Mackenzie watched it all from the doorway. As Ellington checked on Rising, Mackenzie scanned the immediate area. She could see no sign of the killer. She imagined that after taking down Rising, he had escaped through the forest. Attempted kidnapping of a federal agent and the potential murder of a state policeman could probably spook just about any criminal, no matter how crazy they might be.

  She looked back at Ellington and saw that he was saying something to Rising. Surely that was a good sign. Ellington then drew up on his knees and started surveying the area. As he did so, Mackenzie did the only thing she could think to do. She took out her cell phone, not having any sort of mic or radio on her, and placed a call to the Seattle PD. She didn’t even allow the woman that answered to get through her introductory spiel.

  “This is Agent Mackenzie White, FBI. I’ve got an officer down with multiple shots fired and a probable suspect in the storage unit murders either pinned down or on the run.” She gave the location and ended the call without waiting for confirmation.

  Back outside, Ellington was inching his way around the car. She supposed he was going to do the exact same thing she had just done, using the car’s radio to call the situation in back at the station. But as he had no idea of where the killer was, his eyes were cons
tantly in motion, trying to take the entire scene in at all at once.

  He’s an open target out there, she thought. I have to help. If I go out, I risk the baby. But it I don’t, I risk him.

  It was an easier decision than she thought. It literally got her moving as she took her first step outside.

  And it was then that she saw him. He was behind the car, tucked down and creeping around the left side, opposite Ellington. And sensing that Ellington was reaching for the door, the slightest bit distracted, the killer slowly rose, leveling the gun forward while Ellington’s head was turned in the opposite direction.

  “Down!” she yelled.

  Ellington had been trained the same way she had been. When he heard the command from her voice, he fell to the ground with speed and poise. But the killer only jerked hard in her direction, not noticing her. He swung his gun in her direction but didn’t have the time to fire off a shot.

  Mackenzie’s aim was true. She placed one round high in the shoulder. The killer fell backward, catching himself on the side of the car. He was bewildered, but he still held the gun. Mackenzie was prepared to fire again, this time taking out his knee if she had to.

  But Ellington had caught on to what was happening. He had been racing around the back of the car following Mackenzie’s shot. He tackled the killer to the ground, threw an elbow high into his back, and slapped the gun away. Mackenzie ran out to assist but by the time she reached them, Ellington had already applied a pair of cuffs to the killer’s wrists.

  They shared a look that spoke volumes. There was so much communicated in it. I love you. Thanks for saving my life. Damn, that was close. Good job. And so much more.

  “I called it in,” Mackenzie said. “We should be good. How’s Rising?”

  “Looks like a clean shot. Might be too close to his heart, though. I just don’t know. He’s hanging in there for now.”

  The killer screamed out in pain as Ellington stood up off of him.

  “My shoulder! This fucking hurts!”

  “I’m sure it does,” Mackenzie said. “Especially with your shoulder pulled back like that because of the cuffs. So…if you tell us where the girl is, we can make it much better.”

  “Noooo,” he bellowed, realizing just how badly the tables had been turned on him.

  “You shot a state deputy,” Ellington said. “You tried killing me, a federal agent, yesterday. Put that on top of that murders, and things aren’t looking good for you. Tell us where the other girl is and make it look a little better.”

  “Fuck you!” He was writhing now, either from pain or the realization that this was all over for him—that a very bad ending was waiting.

  “Is your name Mark Riley?” Ellington asked.

  The killer laughed at this while he threw what could only be considered a tantrum. The laugh made it sound like he had some private joke that no one else was in on. And as far as Mackenzie was concerned, that was probably very much the case. Only his joke wasn’t funny at all.

  “Where’s your vehicle?” Mackenzie asked. “I very seriously doubt you walked here.”

  He said nothing to this, which was as good as a confession. “You good here?” Mackenzie asked Ellington.

  “Yeah. You got something?”

  “Maybe.”

  With that, she ran around the side of the building. Around back, there was an old canopy of sorts attached to the garage. It was made of sheet metal and old metal rods. There were several old rotten tires beneath it, along with a gutted dirt bike and assorted car parts. But parked all the way to the right was a car that was much newer than anything else under the canopy. She wasn’t sure of the year or exact model, but it was a Ford Taurus, no older than 2005 for sure.

  She went to the driver’s side door and opened it. The keys weren’t in the ignition and there were no obvious signs of ownership. She reached in and popped open the glove compartment. A few things came spilling out, fast food napkins and condiment packets among the mess. But then she saw something that caught her attention. A little flash of bright yellow. She reached for it and knew what she had found before she pulled it out.

  The yellow was a strip of tape that had been placed on top of a key. Just like they had seen for the smaller units at Roy’s Storage. The key was attached to a key ring with several other keys. Without doing a hard count, she was sure there were at least ten on the ring. One of them was tagged with a small plastic tab that read Unit C4 – U-Store-It.

  She took the keys and ran back to the car. Ellington was holding his gun on the killer, a man she assumed was not really named Mark Riley at all. She was thinking he just used it as a moniker, a way to confuse people if he ever got caught. And it sure as hell had worked for a while.

  He was sitting against the side of the car now, the wound in his shoulder bleeding lightly through his shirt. He looked a little scared when he saw that Mackenzie was carrying his ring of keys.

  “I can clearly see that one was from Roy’s Storage and another is from U-Store-It. Only, the one at U-Store-It wasn’t your unit. It belonged to one of your victims. How did you happen to get it?”

  “You’re the FBI agent. You figure it out.”

  “We’ve got the keys,” she said. “It might take a few hours, but we’ll find her. Do one decent thing and tell us where she is. Give her a chance to live.”

  “Why?”

  And it was that one simple question, along with the deadened look in his eyes, that told Mackenzie that there was trauma there. He was doing these horrific things because of some past hurt, some event that had so badly scarred him that this was how he had chosen to work it out. But even that realization did not humanize him. She thought of him leering down at her, just a thought away from killing her and her unborn child.

  She thought of those poor women, bleeding and suffering and starving in those units. Alone, afraid, cast aside like trash.

  The sound of approaching sirens broke those thoughts apart. She stood directly next to Ellington and took his hand. “When they get here, I want to let the police take him in. I can’t be here. I can’t be around him much longer. I want to go find Daisy Walker.”

  “We can do that,” he said.

  The sirens got louder and within another minute or so, the flashing lights of an ambulance came down the gravel road. Several cop cars fell in behind it.

  The killer looked at it all as if he were in a dream. He then looked at the agents, almost as if he was expecting them to explain what was happening.

  “Last chance,” Mackenzie said. “Her name is Daisy Walker. You killed her boyfriend. Her mother is worried about her. Do one thing decent.”

  He only shook his head. The ambulance came into the little pull-over that served as the old garage’s parking lot. When two police cars came to shuddering stops behind it, that was all it took. Mackenzie gave the killer one last glance and then headed for her car with the keys in her hand. She thumbed through them all, wondering which one was going to reveal Daisy Walker, wondering which key might very well save her life.

  CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN

  Mackenzie had told the killer that she guessed they’d find the unit that Daisy Walker was in within a few hours. But as it turned out, with eight policemen working along with her by calling and visiting storage facilities, they were able to narrow it down to two potential sites in less than one hour. They used the type of key cut as well as identifying marks on each key to narrow it down. Both of the owners had willingly closed their gates when the police had asked the day before, so they seemed more than happy to help. The prospect of no longer inconveniencing their customers and the risk of losing money was more than enough reason to rapidly help the police.

  Dentry, the officer who had been alongside Rising for parts of the case, had been the one to eliminate a place called, uncreatively, A Place for Your Stuff. There was indeed a unit rented to Mark Riley. The owner nervously checked the unit out over the phone and found it untouched.

  Mackenzie and Ellington were on their way
to the PD to speak with the killer as soon as they could when they got the update. Dentry made the call, informing them over Mackenzie’s phone, which she had set to speaker mode.

  “That leaves only one place,” Dentry said. “A place called X-tra Space. It’s out near Redmond, about twenty minutes away. We’ve tried calling the owner but there’s no answer.”

  “We’re already out and have the keys,” Mackenzie said. “We’ll take it. Thanks, Officer Dentry. Make sure to get an ambulance out there, too.”

  “I’ll make sure it’s done right away.”

  “Any word on Rising?”

  “No. Nothing. All we know is he’s stable, but just barely.”

  “Has the killer talked yet?” Ellington asked.

  “I don’t think so. He’s just been checked into the hospital for the gunshot wound. When everyone heard about what happened to Rising, one of our officers that took him to the hospital took a swing at him and spit in his face. It was a real circus. Should we wait for you before anyone questions him?”

  “No,” Mackenzie said. The thought of being alone in a room with him made her angry and a bit uneasy. But then, she realized that with Rising out of commission, she and Ellington were the most obvious choice. She certainly couldn’t let the local field agents interrogate him. “Actually, yes. Please let us get first crack at him. Give us an hour or two, okay?”

  “Sounds good.” And it really did seem that’s how Dentry felt. There was relief in her voice. She’d wanted no part of the man who had killed at least four and might have been successful and claiming the life of a fifth.

  That would actually be eleven in all if he was also responsible for the murders in Salem, Oregon, too.

  It was a sobering thought for sure. And it made her feel all the more relieved when they arrived at X-tra Space twenty-two minutes later. Ellington was driving and when he pulled into the parking lot from the street, the car fishtailed from the speed. There was no gate or locked entrance, but Mackenzie did see three tall utility poles on the premises with security cameras.